


I Have a Thing About Dressing Rooms

by ScarletteStar1



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Bratty Eve, Daddy Kink, F/F, Light breathplay, Semi Public Sex, Sex in a small space, Vaginal Fingering, daddy Villanelle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26646505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: Anxiety is an assassin’s aphrodisiac.or. . . the one where V gets E off in a dressing room while wearing a hat.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 12
Kudos: 76





	I Have a Thing About Dressing Rooms

The velvet curtain does little to muffle the annoyed sighs heaving within the dressing room.

In the sitting area, Villanelle crosses her couture suit clad legs and sips champagne. “Well,” she asks, a hitch of expectation in her voice.

“I don’t know,” Eve grumbles. “None of this feels comfortable.”

“You’re not supposed to look comfortable, Baby, you’re supposed to look glamorous.”

Eve pokes her head through the curtains. Her mop of black curls has frizzed from pulling dresses on and off throughout their afternoon of shopping. “Have you met me,” she hisses at the lanky blonde. “I’m not naturally glamorous. I wear sweaters with shirt collars attached to them for fucks sake!”

“Now, now, Eve,” Villanelle uncrosses her legs and stands. She slinks to where Eve clutches the curtains around her shoulders. Lowering her voice, she whispers, “I’m a master of disguise, and it is not going to take very much at all to make you into a decadent, little snack.” She presses her glossy lips very briefly to Eve’s nude but succulent mouth. “Daddy likes a snack,” she hums, her Russian accent bleeding through the phony British she’d adopted for the day. She turns and grabs a fedora off a nearby table of accessories and pop it on her head. “You like to make Daddy happy, don’t you, Baby?”

“Yeah, I don’t even know how that works,” Eve snips, but Villanelle senses the flicker of lust in her voice beneath the bratty petulance. Fedora still on her head, she pushes her way through the curtains and into the dressing room. She’s caught Eve in between dresses, wearing nothing but her sensible, beige underpants. Attempting modesty, Eve crosses her arms over her chest.

“You’re being fussy,” Villanelle’s voice has turned firm and her eyes are hard.

“Why can’t I just wear a suit like you?” Eve asks. Villanelle uses her body to slowly walk Eve to the back of the dressing room. Eve touches the lapels of Villanelle’s jacket. “This looks so nice.” Villanelle senses her anxiety. Eve’s eyebrows arch like question marks, and the sides of her mouth twitch. Anxiety is an assassin’s aphrodisiac.

“Suits are for Daddy’s, Eve,” Villanelle says low, her accent genuinely Slavic now. “Dresses are for pretty girls.” She places her hand on Eve’s throat, not so much to deprive her of oxygen, as to let her know who’s calling the shots. She feels Eve swallow; the cartilage of her throat bobs up and down beneath her fingers. Still clutching Eve’s neck, Villanelle presses her body as close as she possibly can, presses her cool cheek against Eve’s flaming one and whispers, “You like to look pretty for me, don’t you, Eve? You like to give me everything I want and get sweet treats in return?”

Gasping, Eve tries to nod, but it’s nearly impossible from the way Villanelle is holding her. She isn’t breathless from Villanelle’s hand on her windpipe, rather from the proximity of their bodies. “Ye- yes,” she manages to whisper.

“Now what do we need to do to get you into this dress, you naught little brat?” One hand still on Eve’s throat, eyes still blazing into Eve’s gaze, Villanelle reaches behind her and grabs the first dress on which her fingers land. It’s a crimson silk slip with tiny straps and lace trim.

“It’s not really my color-“ Eve starts, but the withering look she gets from Villanelle makes her stop talking instantly. She takes the dress and pulls it on. Villanelle makes a circular motion with her index finger in the air, and Eve turns so she can zip her up.

“Mmmh, this is it. This is the one,” Villanelle purrs as she snakes her hands around Eve’s slender waist. Standing behind Eve, she examines them in the dressing room mirror.

“Villanelle,” Eve starts. “You can’t be serious. Come on, I look like a clown in this thing.”

Villanelle grabs Eve’s hair and twists it in her fist. She pulls Eve’s head back and without any warning at all, sinks her teeth into Eve’s neck. She bites down hard enough that Even utters a sharp cry, but as she bites, she strokes her other hand down Eve’s side and up beneath the dress which elicits a breathy moan from Eve. “Shut up,” Villanelle murmurs. She twists Eve's head and mashes their mouths together. The kiss is messy and hard and at an awkward angle, but Villanelle does not allow Eve to turn around and face her. She works her fingers in the side of Eve’s panties and feels her heated slick. “Oh ho ho,” she chuckles against Eve’s shoulder as she begins fondling her way through the folds. “Looks like I’m not the only one who has a thing for dressing rooms here!”

“Everything all right in there?” An annoyingly sunny voice chirps at them from the other side of the curtain.

“We’re doing just grand!” Villanelle slips back into her British accent to address the shop girl. “Just trying on the red silk cocktail number. Your selection is divine! Isn’t it, Lily?” She squeezes Eve’s clit between her fingers and Eve’s legs almost go out from under her. “Tell her,” Villanelle hisses in Eve’s ear.

“Oh, yes, divine,” Eve gasps unevenly.

“I think Lily would love to see some shoes to go with each of these dresses, isn’t that right?” Villanelle narrows her eyes at Eve in the mirror.

“Mmhmm, yeah,” Eve says and Villanelle rolls her eyes. Eve adds “I mean, yes please, that would be marvelous,” and Villanelle nods and smiles. The shop girl says she’ll be back.

“Okay, you need to be fast now because she’ll be back with your shoes, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem, will it?” Villanelle is practically giddy as she sinks two fingers into Eve and curls them against her inner wall, fucking her hard and fast. Eve’s legs tremble, so Villanelle walks them over to the little seat in the dressing room and sits down with Eve in her lap. The crimson silk has risen around Eve’s hips and Villanelle works her fingers in and out of Eve as she strokes her clit with her thumb. She feels Eve clenching around her, getting ready to climax and she stops suddenly. “Say you’ll wear this pretty dress, or I won’t let you come.”

“Oh, god, please,” Eve whimpers.

“Say it,” Villanelle croons against her neck, licking the tendon and nipping her earlobe.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Eve babbles. “Please, please!” She tries to rut into Villanelle’s fingers, desperate to finish before the shop girl returns with her fucking shoes.

“Yes?” Villanelle peppers Eve’s jaw with little kisses but doesn't resume her attentions to Eve's desperate pussy.

“Yes, Daddy!” Eve moans and Villanelle resumes pumping her fingers in and out of Eve. It only takes several more thrusts before Eve clutches Villanelle’s neck and pushes down hard on her hand, throbbing against and around it. She’s still spasming on Villanelle when the shop girl returns and makes her presence known outside the dressing room.

“Just leave them out there and we’ll get them. Thank you!” Villanelle calls out. She pushes Eve off her lap and gives her bum a little pat. “Well that was fun. Now take that wretched thing off and let’s get out of here.”

Eve looks at her, mouth open in confusion. “Wait, what? You’re not going to make me take this dress? What about the shoes?”

“Good lord no. That thing is hideous. There’s nothing in this shop we want. Except maybe this hat. I like this hat.” Villanelle sets the hat on her head at a jaunty angle. Eve can’t help but double over in a fit of laughter.

“You know, you are seriously something else,” she grins.

“I know,” Villanelle sighs, still admiring her hat in the mirror. “Now come on, Baby. Get dressed and Daddy will take you out for ice cream.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! xoxoxo.


End file.
